


Let Us Cling Together

by The_Exile



Category: Royal Blood | Gemfire
Genre: Back-Stabbing, Exile, F/M, Plotting, Political Alliances, Post-Game(s), Terian victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 01:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: Erin and Gweyn's alliance came a little too late but they're determined to make it work. And are not plotting against each other, honest.





	Let Us Cling Together

**Author's Note:**

> Written for picture #8 of the special drabble challenge

Gweyn envied Erin his thick, warm coat. She had managed to grab a few useful things but wished she'd known how cold it would be. Ah well, once she found someone who would trade with an exile, she could buy a coat and something more useful, maybe less legal.  
She had to admit it felt nice to be pressed against his warm body under the coat, his arms wrapped around her, feeling his heartbeat. It was nice that they could do things like that here, even if the pang of homesickness was so bad that she sometimes felt forced to be around the others just so she had something to remind her of home.

Maybe she really liked him? Just a little, perhaps. Back home, the bad magic in the air was always driving everyone to a battle frenzy so much that it was a relief to get out, to somewhere that hating everyone wasn't the norm.

Like any embassy, Ishmerian politics still applied and she knew that she owed it to both of them not to make things easy. She could have her fun, though, clasping her arms around his waist as he dug his hands into her hair.

\----------

Gazing out to sea, Erin wasn't sure any more which one held his attention more, the faint shadow in the distance that he imagined was the isle of Ishmeria but, upon reflection, probably wasn't, or the woman at his side who clung to him, her breath fluttering as fragile as a songbird's wings. She smelled of home too - he didn't think she had anything but the clothes on her back and the bag she carried around with her everywhere. His adviser constantly made him plan for defeat as well as victory but she had no famous strategists as advisers, no Gem Wizards as Fifth Units, just that conniving grandfather and useless brother of hers. Still, she had held her own for a long time - just how much money did she have to hire elite mercenaries with, anyway? - and this was the first time he had really seen her look so vulnerable.

She was probably playing him in some way - Erven had probably been stabbing her in the back too but he at least taught her well - but that was at least a pleasant surrender this time, one that he would willingly be laid bare by.


End file.
